Chapter 22 #2
Millie bursts into laughter. “Is it working?”
I roll my eyes good-naturedly, happily accepting my fate.
An alarm goes off on my aunt’s phone, and she shakes her head. “I could chat all mornin’ with y’all, but I do have to go open the bakery.”
Millie squeezes Scarlett tight and whispers something in her ear that I can’t hear. Then my aunt wraps me in a tight hug, too. “Enjoy breakfast! Have a good day!”
“Nice to officially meet you!” Scarlett offers.
“Pleasure is mine,” Mille tells her. She eventually leaves us with promises of more pies and threats that we should visit her.
Once she’s gone, the kitchen is much quieter. Scarlett leans against the counter, finishing her slice of sausage bread.
“So…” I can’t take my eyes off her.
“So…” she says, finishing her slice of sausage bread.
“I didn’t expect you to claim me,” I say.
“Why not?” She sets her plate on the counter. “Everything I said is true.”
“I know it is, it’s just that most people aren’t so honest or open.”
“That’s my brand. Millie is one of my readers. It would be a disservice to her and you to be anything other than my true self. It helps nothing to avoid the inevitable. I know that. You know that. I’m not hiding from it.”
I can’t explain the happiness that washes over me. “I want you, Scarlett. Now, and I think forever.”
Her breath catches. “You might change your mind after the newness wears off.”
“No. When you know, you know.” I step closer and slide an arm around her waist, enjoying the effortless way she melts against me.
Scarlett smiles, fingertips lightly brushing the front of my shirt.
“I don’t want to rush us. Personally, I want to keep you to myself as long as I can, because eventually, I won’t be able to.
After Her Forever publishes, people will talk, and you’ll be found.
It’s easy to say you don’t care about the spotlight until it’s burning you. ”
I suck in a deep breath and tuck some hair behind her ears. “I think you should research me online.”
Her head tilts. “Why?”
“Because you talk to me like I don’t understand being in the public eye, when I very much do. Like you, I disappeared for a while, too. But please trust me when I say, I can handle it. I’ve been dealing with cameras shoved in my face since I was a toddler.”
“Really?” she asks.
I grin. “Really. My mother was very well-known in the art world. My father is the lead guitarist for the rock band Midnight Riot.”
Scarlett’s mouth falls open. “Ryder?”
“Yes.”
Her heart rate beats rapidly as she studies me, and I can tell she’s shocked.
“Research me. Then ask me whatever you want. I don’t have anything to hide from you.”
“Okay,” she whispers. “I will.”
I gently place my hands on either side of her cheeks, brushing a thumb across her soft skin.
“I know what it’s like to have strangers infatuated and obsessed.
My mother protected me as much as she could, but once I turned eighteen, it was impossible to stay hidden because I was no longer a kid.
Paparazzi followed me around for years. Most women have dated me for clout, which is why I let new people into my life as much as you do. ”
“So you don’t,” she says, standing on her tiptoes and sliding her lips against mine. It’s gentle and full of emotion as she wraps her arms around my neck.
“Exactly,” I admit. “But you make me feel normal. It’s like you get it.”
She nods. “I know what you mean.”
The hint of vulnerability in her expression matches the soft flutter of nerves inside my chest.
She hesitates, biting her lower lip. “I want you, too.”
Relief washes through me, mingled with hope. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Scarlett’s gaze softens, her fingers tracing gently along the hem of my shirt.
“I might cry when I write the end of this book. Not because it’s over, but because I’ll have more time.
Lately, I’ve been so busy wishing it away.
For the first time in years, I want it to slow down so I can enjoy being with you. ”
A chuckle releases from me. “It’s mutual, babe.”
Our kiss deepens, and before we can lose ourselves in the moment again, a knock on the front door interrupts us.
Scarlett meets my eyes with a playful smirk. “I guess the universe isn’t going to let me use that O-coin today.”
“It’s probably Millie,” I tell her. “Probably forgot something.”
I’m already bracing for my aunt’s teasing smile and knowing eyes as I pull the door open. But instead of Millie, I’m faced with Sara.
“Ezra.”
The look on her face is enough to tell me this isn’t a casual visit.
“Sara.” I force a polite nod, my mind scrambling. “This is unexpected.”
Her perfume drifts toward me, and she holds up a box of donuts. “I brought your favorite.”
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit I recognize. “I probably should have called first, but I was nearby, and sometimes old habits die hard.”
I shift on my feet. “I’ve already said everything I needed to say.”
Sara straightens her shoulders, clearly sensing she crossed a boundary. “I’m not ready to give up on us yet. I thought maybe if we talked—”
“Sara,” I interrupt her.
A moment later, a high-pitched sneeze echoes from the kitchen.
My ex’s gaze shifts.
Next thing I know, she’s brushing past me, stepping directly inside like she still belongs here.
“Sara,” I say, my voice full of irritation, pivoting to follow her.
She doesn’t respond, her heels clicking sharply across the hardwood floors. My pulse picks up as I trail her.
Scarlett leans casually against the kitchen counter, wearing my clothes, watching with curiosity instead of uncertainty. She straightens her stance but continues to sip her coffee like she’s unbothered.
“So, you’re the new distraction,” Sara says to Scarlett as she scans her from head to toe.
“Oh, I’m more than a distraction,” Scarlett says. “But I suppose you’re the old one?”
I tuck my lips into my mouth. Scarlett is too quick-witted for her own good.
“This is my ex-fiancée, Sara, who was just leaving,” I say.
Scarlett’s eyes slide over me, and a flash of understanding passes between us. She’s handling herself with calm grace, but I find the situation infuriating.
“Ezra and I have history,” Sara says, still holding the donut box in her grasp. “I can’t just be erased.”
“I don’t want to erase anything,” Scarlett replies evenly. “But the past should stay there. It helps no one to look backward.”
“How would you know?”
Scarlett laughs. “Oh, trust me, I know that very well.”
I step forward, placing my hand on Sara’s shoulder. “It’s time to go.”
Sara takes a reluctant step back, eyes flicking toward Scarlett, frustration evident in her expression.
Scarlett doesn’t give any fake pleasantries or even a nice to meet you. They stare at each other for a few seconds before Sara turns on her heels. The sweet-girl mask she was wearing has slipped away, and I see the woman I broke up with. The woman who throws a fit when she doesn’t get her way.
“What are you going to do, marry her?” Sara asks, her tone laced with attitude.
“Possibly,” I say blankly, staring at her.
Sara’s nostrils flare, and I see her spinning out of control. “Can’t help but notice she looks nothing like me.”
“Why are you doing this?” I ask. “This behavior isn’t healthy.”
“Because I love you, and I didn’t want to believe there was anyone else. I thought we still had a chance,” she says, growing more upset.
“We don’t. There is someone else, and you just stormed into my house acting like a jealous ex. We’re over. We’ve been over for years. We weren’t compatible.” I shake my head.
“Yes, we were,” she tells me.
I place my hands on her shoulders. “We had some good times together, but we argued a lot. You wanted me to quit my passion. That’s unforgivable.”
“I’ve apologized,” she whispers.
“That’s how you felt. Own it,” I tell her, exhaling. “I wish you the best, Sara. But please don’t do this again.”
“I was hopeful,” she says, before walking down the porch steps.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her.
A few tears drip down her face as she climbs inside her car. I never wanted to see her like that. Seconds later, she’s backing out of the driveway. There’s a finality to our relationship that’s both a relief and way overdue.
I shut the door, then I return to the kitchen. Scarlett hasn’t moved from her spot against the counter. Her fingers are still wrapped around her coffee mug, eyes fixed on me.
I step back into the kitchen, our eyes meeting. “I wasn’t expecting—”
“An ambush by your ex?” she finishes, raising an eyebrow as she lifts the mug. “I gathered that. Honestly, don’t be surprised if mine tracks me down, too. They lose their minds when they realize you’re actually moving on.”
“Yeah,” I say, moving toward her.
“You said ex-fiancée,” Scarlett says. “You almost married her?”
“Yes, but after my mom passed away, I was in a bad place. I thought I’d lost who I was because the grief was so overwhelming. I was depressed and felt lost. Sara didn’t understand it and encouraged me to quit the thing that connected me so closely to my mother.”
Scarlett reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling me toward her. “She wanted you to quit being a potter?”
“Yes,” I admit. “She gave me an ultimatum. Her or my art.”
“Ezra,” she says, her brows furrowing. “I’m so sorry.”
She wraps her free arm around me, and I savor the comfort her closeness brings. “I was at the lowest point in my life, but I will always be an artisan.”
Scarlett’s eyes hold mine. “Can’t imagine a world without your mugs, Ezra. I’m glad you didn’t give it up. No one is worth that. No man has ever asked me to stop writing, but if they did, he’d be gone.”
“My craft is who I am. Take that away and I’d be hollow.”
“Me too,” she says, setting her mug on the counter. Scarlett smiles faintly. “Are you over her?”
“Yes, and I have been for a long while,” I say without hesitation.
“It took a lot of time and self-reflection. I grieved losing my mother and the end of our relationship at the same time. I came out the other side stronger, knowing exactly what type of person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”
“Tell me.” She wraps both of her arms around me.
I grin, leaning in closer until our foreheads rest gently together.
“Someone who’s kind, respectful, and honest. Pretty with a little attitude.
I need a woman who appreciates and encourages my work, not treats it as if it’s a burden.
She has to be smart and independent. Someone who doesn’t need constant attention but appreciates the time we get.
Her sex drive must match mine. I want a partner I can get lost with. ”
“Wow.” Her voice is playful and sincere. “Hope you find her.”
“I have.” We sway to a tuneless rhythm, and I spin her around.
Scarlett tilts her head up to meet my eyes.
“I might want to do this until the end of time with you,” I admit.
Scarlett holds my gaze. “I can imagine it.”
Her lips part slightly, her eyes dropping briefly to my mouth.
I lean closer, enjoying how her breath catches.
“You make my heart race,” she whispers.
“You do the same to me.”
Our teasing melts into something that’s always there, bubbling beneath the surface. My thumb brushes over her cheekbone, and Scarlett’s eyelids flutter shut at the touch. Slowly, I lower my head, capturing her mouth.
She sighs into me, her lips warm and inviting. Her hands curl into my hair, holding me closer, and I savor the gentle press of her body against mine. We kiss until every thought of exes, interruptions, and uncertainty fades, leaving only the sweet, effortless rhythm we’ve found together.
When we break apart, Scarlett lets out a contented sigh. “I really need to finish this damn book.”
“Sorry for being a distraction.” I stroke my fingers through her hair.
“No, you’re not,” she says with a smirk.
I laugh against her lips, stealing another kiss. “You’re damn right about that.”